Wishing on the Same Moon
by Acepilot6
Summary: A Tertiary story for and about Valentines Day. Dealing with seperation for the first time in a relationship is never fun, espeically on Valentines Day. Phil:Lor. Reviews appreciated.


**Wishing on the Same Moon**

Acepilot

AN - A Tertiary story for Valentine's Day. From Here On is coming, I promise. Really. Anyway, hope you enjoy this. It's named for a song by Powderfinger basically about lovers who are too far away from each other.

8 - * - * - 8

I lie on the couch, a hand over my eyes and trying to block out the sun. "Can we close that curtain? How can it be this hot in February?"

"No, we can't close the curtain - this place doesn't get enough sun as it is. And as for why its so hot, I think you'll find we're in Southern California," Tish points out from the kitchen.

"Well, yeah, if you want to get technical about it," I groan.

"What's up with you, anyway?" my friend asks. "You've been sulking all week." She raises an eyebrow. "Is it because of Valentine's Day?"

"No," I tell her, quite emphatically. "It's definitely not because of Valentine's Day."

"Because that never really struck me as your kind of thing," she continues.

"It isn't, and that's why this has nothing to do with that."

"Then what does it have to do with?" Tish asked, returning to the room with glasses of iced tea and her book. I was watching the TV but with barely any interest, and I mute it so she could read without distraction.

Other than my talking, anyway. "I just miss him, that's all."

"Oh," Tish coos. "That's kind of sweet."

"Thanks," I mutter.

"You aren't even a little annoyed that you're not going to be together for Valentine's Day? Your first Valentine's Day as a couple, I might point out?"

"Thanks, but you're not the first person to point it out," I tell her. "I think Lil might have mentioned it. And Carver. And my dad - though I think his version had something about being abandoned in it. Not to mention your beau."

"Sorry, don't know any 'Beau's," Tish says, a slight giggle in her voice. I roll my eyes. I'm happy for her and Tino, really, but I feel like my best friend has been taken away and replaced with a giggly mess. I hope I wasn't quite like this when Phil and I got together.

I don't feel like I've been abandoned. The fact that this whole...stupid...art show that he and his entire class have been dragged to is on at Valentines Day is really not his fault. It's not anyone's fault - I mean, could you really let Valentines Day postpone your major art show? It's not even a real holiday.

But, nevertheless, here we are. Less than two months into our brand new, real genuine relationship, at our first ever Valentines Day together, and we're not together. He's on one coast, I'm on another.

Valentines Day was never something I paid much attention to throughout the years. Valentines Day was a bit...cheesey for me. While I'm not entirely without romantic inclinations and it's true that while younger I might have gone completely ga-ga for a romantic date with Thompson on Valentines, these days I like my romance a bit more...personal, less mass-marketed.

Tino and I had shared a Valentines Day together, of course. Just last year. But it wasn't quite an unqualified success - I'd foolishly decided to attempt to cook and despite Phil's best efforts at teaching me the recipe I'd asked for, it hadn't exactly gone well.

"What time is it?" I ask, rolling over to watch the muted TV. Sleepless in Seattle is playing out across the screen and Tish is fumbling for the remote, having just realised it was on.

"It's a bit after four," she tells me. "I'm should really be going."

"I know," I tell her. "Big night tonight?"

"I'm hoping so," she tells me. "If you're still feeling...down, though, do call. We're both your friends, remember."

"I know," I assure her with a smile. Still wouldn't call them tonight if I was dying on the side of the road. It's their first Valentines together and they are both hopeless enough romantics that they will want to do something special with it, and I'll be damned if I'm going to interrupt them.

8 - * - * - 8

"Your heater doesn't exactly work, does it?" I ask, bundled up under a blanket and breathing into my hands. "This is ridiculous."

Kimi rolls her eyes at me and shakes her head. "You're a wimp."

"_I'm_ a wimp?" I chatter through frozen teeth. "You're hogging all the blankets."

"Well, they're my blankets," she points out.

"That green one you stole from my flat," I remind her.

"You bet I did," she says. "It's my favourite."

I roll my eyes. Or I would if I wasn't afraid they'd freeze. "Can't believe you've decided to live here. In the land of the endless winter."

"They assure me it gets stinking hot in the summer," she tells me. "Though I haven't yet experienced it."

"I think I'm developing a real appreciation for back home," I venture. "The warmth. The sunshine."

"The company?"

I turn to face her. "Pardon?"

"I just can't help but imagine that on your first Valentines Day since you got together with Lor, you'd really rather be spending it with her."

"It would be nice," I agree, "but I mean...what would we do today anyway? We're not exactly roses and chocolates kind of people. Although, chocolates..."

"Phil, focus," she says. "I want a coffee, you want a coffee?"

"But that would mean getting up and moving away from the roaring fire," I argue, warming my hands on the broken radiator.

She shakes her head at me and rises from her perch, heading into the kitchen of her tiny, one-bedroom-if-you-could-call-it-that flat. It makes me long for my nice, comfy student-rates flat in the sushine on the other side of the country.

And the girl currently probably lying on its couch.

"I miss her," I tell Kimi, pulling myself and my half-dozen blankets up off the couch and trailing her into the kitchen. "I miss her a lot."

"Ah, the joys of still being in that beginning phase," she agrees. "Where it's all sex and talking and being there with each other."

"Yeah, it rocks," I agree, shuffling from toe to toe to try and keep circulation moving to both my feet. As a Californian native I had no idea it ever got this cold. I've been to the mountains but I've decided that they're nothing. The mountains are just cold. Here you get that really nice breeze off the Atlantic to really put a nice edge on the freezing streets. "Except we're not exactly having sex right now or talking or being there with each other."

"Well, no," Kimi agreed. "But you're flying home tomorrow night. You'll be there in no time and with Lor again and all will be right with the world."

"I guess," I agree, reluctantly. Kimi hands me a cup of coffee which I wrap my grateful hands around, only to discover that this makes my blankets fall off and pool at my feet. I resist the temptation to yelp with the cold and drop to my knees to pick them back up, finding creative ways to sling them around my shoulders and hold them there without sacrficing a hand. "When did you switch to this dripalated stuff?"

"It's hard to get anything else here," she tells me. "I guess I've just gotten used to it."

"You've changed, Kimi," I tell her. "You're just not the girl I knew."

"True," she agrees. "Are you going to call her or not?"

I'm a bit taken aback at the sudden change in direction of our conversation, but I guess in all fairness I did it first, so I can hardly blame her for swinging it back in her preferred direction. "Yes."

"Good," she says. "You realise, of course, that even though we broke up we've kept our streak of holidays together well and truly alive."

I smile and kiss her on the cheek, wandering out into the lounge room again. "What time is it?"

"It's about ten," she tells me. "It'd be nearly seven at home."

"Right," I say, slumping down onto the couch. "I'll call her."

"Good," Kimi encourages me.

8 - * - * - 8

I stare at the roof of our room.

The first night Phil was gone - all of two days ago - I went back into my room. I hadn't slept in there in weeks but I hadn't really moved out of it either - all my stuff still lived in its closets and what few decorations I had brought still adorned its surfaces. It was still my room and the room in which Phil and I slept was still his room - identifiable by the abundance of art that coated every surface and the slight odour of paint that never quite seemed to disappear from the air within it.

Schroeder had been extremely confused and had finally staggered into my room at about one in the morning after realising I wasn't going to be sleeping in the usual bed, collapsing against me seeking the body heat he usually finds with me and Phil.

I couldn't sleep in my bed, in my room. It was all too different - the window was at a different angle, there wasn't the tang of paint in the air, and the bed was lumpy in all the wrong spots. That, and Phil wasn't there. I had been sleeping next to him for only six weeks but his sudden absence was jarring for me.

Yesterday I had started moving my things into his room. My clothes into his closet. My books into his bookshelf. And last night, I slept in here, and then it was no longer his room. It was our room.

It wasn't terribly late but I lay there in our bed anyway, staring at the ceiling. Phil's often talked about a desire to paint it with the night sky but because we are wanting to move out of this place in four months and get our bond back I imagine he won't do it until we're settled somewhere more...permanent. It's a nice idea, regardless, but I settle for turning my head slightly and staring out the window where I can just see the stars - barely. The night lights of LA kind of eliminate them. I look forward to leaving the big city - moving out to North City with Phil after college and starting our lives somewhere a little less crowded.

The phone's ringing interrupt my plans for the future. I fumble for the reciever on Phil's nightstand and grab it on my third try, pulling it in to my ear. "Hello?" I venture.

"Hey," Phil's voice comes down the line. "Happy Valentines Day."

I chuckle. "Okay, that was about the last thing I was expecting to hear from you right now."

"Why?" he asked. "It's Valentines Day, isn't it?"

"Just barely," I tell him. "I mean, it's got to be pushing midnight where you are, isn't it?"

"It's about half-ten," he admits. "How's your day been?"

"Boring," I tell him. "Tish came around, we went out for a little while. She shopped. I stood and watched."

"This city has gone crazy," he tells me. "We went out for groceries and it was like the entire place has had a bucket of pink paint dropped on it."

"How are you finding New York in the winter?"

"Cold." I can hear his teeth chattering as he says this. "Cold and lonely. I miss you. I wish I was there today."

"Because it's Valentines Day?" I ask. "Our first Valentines Day together, and we're not?"

There's a pause over the line. "That's not exactly what I was thinking of," he admits.

"What were you thinking of?"

I can hear him sigh. "I wish I was there today because this being on the other side of the country thing...well, to be frank with you, it really, really sucks. I'm lying here on Kimi's couch and freezing my ass off in this bitter eastern winter when I could be over there with you. No grade is worth this. I don't care if it's Valentines or New Years or the ninth of October or whenever - I love you and would rather be there than anywhere regardless of how 'special' the day is."

I bite my lip. "I love you too. I never really cared about Valentines Day," I assure him, "but I do wish you were here."

There's another pause over the line, before he coughs lightly. "Does this mean you didn't get me a Valentines present?"

I laugh. "If you're a very good boy," I assure him, "and hurry home tomorrow, there might be one waiting."

"I'll keep that in mind," he assures me.

We talk about any number of things after that, from the art show that was so important his classmates and professor had to cross the country to see it, to the exam I had the day before, onto the latest progress in Schroeder's attempts to catch non-existent mice, and on and on and on until it's well after midnight in New York and the city here has finally started to go properly dark. "It's getting late," I remind him.

"I know," he says. I can hear the sleepiness creeping through his voice no matter how hard he tries to hold it off. "I should really get some sleep," he says. "I'd hate to miss my flight because I was too tired."

"You'd better not," I tell him. "Do you want me to come meet you at the airport?"

"That'd be nice," he says. "Good practice for when you're a big hotshot journalist and I have to come pick you up from the gate after all your trips to exotic locations. Like Bali. And Ecuador. And New Jersey."

I blow him a raspberry down the line. "Alright, alright. Get some sleep, hey? I need you all rested up for tomorrow."

"I'll take that as a promise," he tells me. "Happy Valentines Day, Lor."

"You too. Good night."

"Night," he agrees. Moments of silence pass before there's a beep from the phone and a quiet buzzing noise down the line.

I sigh and slip the phone back into its cradle, lying back on the bed and staring again at the ceiling. Schroeder creeps in and curls up at my side, and I stroke him absentmindedly. Part of me knows I should really get changed into something to sleep in - this is a perfect opportunity to finally steal Phil's old Flames top, I know he didn't take it with him - but right now I'm so content that I'm really struggling to want to get up.

So I decide not to, just lying here and staring at the ceiling.

Ultimately, I guess we don't need the flowers and the chocolates and all that. It's not really us.

But we are thinking about each other.

And that, really, is enough.

8 - * - * - 8

Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews are nice. Just putting it out there.


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